Free Slave of the Legion by Marshall S. Thomas Page A

are you talking about?"
    "You're so lucky, Beta Three—so lucky! It's so simple for you. All you have to do is carry an E. You have no idea how lucky you are."
    "Lucky?" I laughed. "I'm a hired gun! There's no luck involved."
    "No, you're an Angel of the Lord! You're the Sword of Deadman! Don't tell me you joined the Legion because you were bored. Stepping through that gate is a horrific act—it's almost like suicide. Why did you do it? Don't lie to me, Wester, I know you too well! What were you looking for? We're all serving the same God—what do we die for?"
    "Justice—I suppose." I was so tired I was having trouble keeping my eyes open, but I knew what motivated Tara, and I knew it motivated the Legion as well.
    "Justice! Exactly! That's what the Legion is all about, that's what they've been shouting into our ears from the very beginning, isn't it? And what do you think it means?"
    "It means the oceans will run red with blood until all the evil is gone. Even if it kills us all."
    "Precisely—well put! Yes, that's exactly it. Justice before all, Justice over all, Justice first and everything else second. 'I have burnt the book of laws, to serve the Deadman's cause.' That's our creed, isn't it? I know what Justice means. I'm paying for my sins, Wester. But it's all right with me. I'm happy here. We're doing something good, Wester, something simple and good, for our people. We're marching in the mud, for God, for Justice."
    "What is your problem, Tara? You once told me you were on a Mission from God. I thought that a little strange, considering your occupation."
    She hesitated, and shook her head. It was dark—I couldn't really see her face. "My sins are too horrible to relate, Wester. You know what I've been. I'm Cintana Tamaling, galactic slaver. I've delivered thousands of hopeless innocents into the gates of Hell. But it was all for the Legion, Wester—every breath I draw is for the Legion. I was the perfect asset with the perfect cover. Nobody in the System would ever suspect Cintana Tamaling of being a Legion agent—the very concept was unthinkable. I was on the Legion death list, after all, along with my whole crew. I was slavery's notorious Black Lotus, infamous throughout the System, and not a single one of my slaves will ever forget me. They carry my mark. It's a debt, Wester—a debt."
    "Oh, wonderful. So the Legion was sponsoring a slaver! Terrific. I knew you were reporting to them, but I didn't know they were actively backing you. I hope you're going to tell me why."
    "I'm paying, Wester. Right now. I was phenomenally successful—more successful than we had ever dared dream. We've got the entire galactic network now—there's not a single organization that didn't deal with me. Every world I visited is marked. Every slaver, every Systie official, every cop, every expeditor, every last, sleazy crim, everyone who lifted a finger or held open a door—they're all on the death list now, every single one."
    "Great! So they're on the list! How many slaves did you sell for that?"
    "It's the wheel of history, Wester. I knew an angel once—a psycher. He made me, Wester. He was a genius. He was tortured, obsessed, brilliant, insane, divine. My angel! He showed me the galaxy, the way it really was. He ripped the scales right off my eyes and it almost blinded me. I worship the man, but sometimes I think I'd kill him if I could. He was truly driven—he was mad, but he taught me everything. He whispered the Legion's darkest secrets into my ears, because I had to know. He cut the Legion cross right into my heart. He made me cry, he made me pray, for Justice. That was his God, and the Legion's God—Justice! He made me promise to fight for Justice, no matter what—no matter how hard it would be."
    Tara paused to catch her breath. The gnats were still with us, snacking on my face. It was dark and cold.
    "It was hard, Wester. It was so hard! It was only after I had promised that he told me everything—about what I